Land Of The Tyrants (feat. Zera Tønin)

This rose-tinted shampoo

Desert island dickheads who don't give a damn

About you or me or our fate

Yet, we're all just enemies of this pitiful fucking state

Just satellite town has-beens

Twitching at the fucking flat screen

Flat capped, whippetted, regionally voice-overed

Filling up the comments box, last of the summer whining

Meat-cheeked antiques

As we slither, humble and meek

No argument allowed, or heads bowed

Because we're all stereotypes up here

Feet up, pound shop, debts and fear

Stinking of football and beer

Because it's easier like that, I suppose

Just label the lot, then off you trot

Some demographic crack, box ticked on track

The hypocritical hoards, striking all the wrong chords

Best left to rot at the back

Sell by dated, nationally hated

Traditionally aggravated

We know this game, we know this game

Hail to the thief

Hail to the thief

In this land of the tyrants

Hail to the thief

So smash us down

As we can't escape

Until the ad break

This bastard north, this stone-faced shackle

And in the distance you hear that Etonian cackle

As we shout manically at the sky (uh), but don't ask why

No one's listening, no one's bothered

So tear our lives apart, we're useful to no one

Just statistics, not beating hearts

Yet you're victorious (you're victorious)

So tell me your typical bullshit (tell me your typical bullshit)

Feed me that pseudo fury

Grind in the lazy shame, and shift the blame again

Hail to the thief

Hail to the thief

In this land of the tyrants

Hail to the thief

Hail to the thief

Hail to the thief (hail to the thief)

In this land of the tyrants (in this land of the tyrants)

Hail to the thief (hail to the thief)

(Hail to the thief)

(Hail to the thief)

(Hail to the thief)